


Pleck-53

by ArtOfRykan



Category: Mission to Zyxx (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Anilingus, Blow Jobs, Double Anal Penetration, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gangbang, Hand Jobs, Jucking, M/M, Moonshine, Orgy, PLINT - Freeform, Rimming, Robot/Human Relationships, Space-grapefruit, Survival, Teasing, Tropes, hot dogging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 14:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17768546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtOfRykan/pseuds/ArtOfRykan
Summary: Pleck and C-53 end up in a situation.(Super vague as I don't want to give spoilers! Set in the first half of season 2. It get's pretty explicit y'all :eyes:)





	1. The Ice Cavern

Stars wheeled by, the void between quiet. All was calm. 

“Hey guys?” Bargie's voice suddenly broke the silence. 

Pleck, still not knowing where to look when Bargie speaks, looked at various points on the ceiling. “Yeah, what's up?” 

“So Bargie's got some… Bargie things to take care of. You know how it is, I'm a busy ship. Places to go, agents to meet, scripts to read, yaddas yadda. So I’m kicking you all out.”

C-53's servos whirred quizzically. “Right now? In the depths of space?” 

Bargie laughed, the sound of thrusters decelerating in the background. “Nah, don't worry, I'm taking us into the atmosphere of a planet you've been to before. Alright,” her sirens start blaring, “buh-bye!” she said as she flushed Pleck , C-53 and Dar out of her emergency hatch. Pleck barely managed to yell “Wait-!” before they were already plummeting to the ground. Fortunately the ground was only about 15 feet down, but being made of concrete it bruised up Pleck like a ripe peach. Dar and C-53 were, as usual, fine. 

Dar grumbled as she got to her feet. “That was rather rude, but at least we can get a drink while we wait for her to come back.”

They were surrounded by tall buildings, in what looked like a city street. Intentionally or not, Bargie had kicked them out on the planet Milsch, right in front of Hotel Milsch where they'd met Peter-3 previously. C-53 helped Pleck to his feet, who up to that point had just been laying on his back staring at the sky. “I really hope she doesn't make a habit of that”. 

Dar led the way through the lobby and into the elevator. There was no music playing as the doors closed behind them, prompting C-53 to say “Initiating muzak protocol”. A musical version of a song that sounded like  _ Girl from Ipanema _ , but definitely wasn't due to copyright issues, started playing from his hidden speakers. Pleck brightened up, “Maybe I'll actually get an Orange Beer this time!”. Dar snorted derisively, and C-53 just gave Pleck a look. His chipper, optimistic grin remained. “Yeah, I'm going to get some Orange Beer, and then maybe I'll try one of the Purple Beers!” 

“Sure you will, buddy.” Dar patted Pleck on the head and the door dinged, letting them out onto the rooftop bar. Pleck looked around hopefully, but disappointingly neither Samo and Winc nor Peter3 were there. Pleck felt a twinge of disappointment. The bar was packed ,  and what was visible of the weak winter sun was starting to set. It looked like Friday night happy hour was in full swing. They found somewhere to sit, and Dar announced she was going to the bar to get drinks and an extension cable for C-53. As Dar walked away, they heard Pleck saying “Hey, C-53?” and wondered what problematic question he had now. 

The bartender on duty had a very distinctive facial tattoo and recognized Dar immediately. “I know fow a fawct Peter-3 ain't here, and I'm bewting your 2 buddies ain't too faw behiwnd, so you've gotta get owt”. He pointed to a photo of Pleck, Dar and C-53 with  **Do Not Serve** ! written underneath.

“Aww c'mon, not even one?” they batted their eyelids at the bartender, “Please?”. 

His scowl deepened. “Owt! Befowe I have to cawl secuwity!” 

Dar scowled back, and returned to the table. “Bad luck guys, the bartender recognised us. He had our picture up behind the bar and was deffinitely not happy to see me. We've gotta go”. 

Pleck's face fell. “So, no orange beer?” 

“No beer of any kind. C'mon”.

“I don't know what I expected” Pleck said crestfallen. On the way back to the lobby, Pleck sighed. “Well what are we going to do until Bargie gets back, then.” 

C-53 turned to the other two, servos whirring, “Why don't we visit the Ice Caverns? They're the most popular tourist destination on this planet.”

Pleck’s brow furrowed, “It's after 5pm,won't they be closed?” 

Servos whirred. “They're underground, why would they be closed? It's not like they're dependent on day-light.”

“Ah I guess so.” 

Dar cleared her throat, “Actually guys I need to use the little-security officer's room. I'll catch you up”. 

Pleck's face hadn't had a chance to recover from his earlier blank expression, which was just as well. “You need to visit the hotel security?” 

Dar rolled their eyes. “No, you dingdong, I need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh,right, yeah. Okay. There are signs everywhere for the ice caverns, you'll know where we are.” 

C-53 shook his head as they headed for the front doors. Dar located the relevant symbols on the opposite side of the lobby, pointing down a side-corridor. On their way though, they noticed a door with an interesting sign reading “Suruba-fest. All welcome”. Familiar noised permeated the door, inviting Dar to push it open. The first thing they noticed was a long table immediately to their right covered in food - Garfon Wings, fries, all that good stuff. The second thing they noticed just beyond that was the wild and wanton orgy. Bodies of all shapes, sizes and colours were engaging in Dar’s favourite hobby. They rubbed their hands together, grinning. “This is  _ way _ better than ice caves or whatever. HEY! Who's got next?” they announced, wading in gleefully. 

 

Meanwhile, Pleck and C-53 had found their way into the ice caves. There had been an automated ticket booth at the entrance, wooden and looking like it could do with a lick of paint. The benches nearby were looking equally sad, the only structures in an environment made solely from ice. There was not another soul to be seen, eerily quiet and deserted. Diamond dust sparkled in the wan light.

Pleck had picked up a little map of the caves, which he was studying intently as they walked down the wooden pathway guiding the way. There was a cable running along the roof of the cavern, with lights every so often to illuminate their path. The walls and ceilings glittered, bouncing light everywhere. Pleck seemed genuinely delighted, poking his head into every side passage. “There sure is a lot of ice down here, huh?” he said, studying his paper map. Servos whirred in response. “Oh look! If we go up to here” he said, pointing at the map he was profering to C-53, “They have a laser light show!” Pleck scampered ahead, C-53 following behind at the same pace. He heard a disappointed whine in the distance. 

“Aw man, it says the cavern is closed due to fractures in the ceiling.” he turned to C-53 with a devious grin. “But you've got like… Sensors and things, right? So if we went in  _ anyway  _ you could tell us where it's safe to stand, right? And i’m sure I’d be able to sense if something was wrong using the Space!”

C-53 made concerned servo noises. “I don't think that's a good idea Emissary Decksetter.”

“Oh come  _ on _ , C-53, don't be such a square”. 

The droid bristled. “I am not a square, merely concerned about not getting crushed to death under several tons of ice-” 

But Pleck had already started exploring the cavern, looking for the control panel for the light show. 

C-53 sighed and followed him. He pointed towards a smaller side passage hidden by a curtain the same blue-white colour as the surrounding walls. Pleck gleefully pulled back the curtain to reveal a small booth, a control panel with chair. “Alright!” he said, plonking down in the chair and randomly pushing buttons. 

“Emissary Decksetter I really think we should leave, I can hear-” 

A cracking sound suddenly became very audible. Ice chips started to fall from the ceiling, a tear in the ceiling spreading from one side of the cavern to the other, huge chunks of ice falling in an enormous cascade of ice. 

Pleck let go of the button he had just pushed in. The lasers illuminated the ice that had filled the cave, blocking off their only exit. C-53 turned back to Pleck. 

“I'm not going to say I told you so, but… Okay yes I am, that's exactly what I'm going to say”. 

“Oh boy. At least I got the lightshow working?” Pleck shrugged. 

C-53 sighed heavily. “You're probably going to freeze to death in here, you know that?” he ripped the curtain free of it's rail and threw it around Pleck's shoulders.

“Oh, juck me” Pleck said in a small voice, the gravity of the situation settling on his shoulders like so much diamond dust. 

“What was that?” C-53 asked. 

“Huh? Oh, I didn't say anything.” Pleck said, blowing into his cupped hands for warmth, his pink cheeks going rosy red in the cold. C-53 looked Pleck up and down.

“You might be onto something there” the droid mused, rubbing his chin. “We can hope that the cave-in was loud enough that someone heard, or failing that, someone will realize tomorrow when the tourists start showing up. If we can just keep you warm until tomorrow morning,  _ you _ might make it out of here alive and  _ I  _ won’t be irreparably damaged by being frozen solid. 

Pleck looked up at C-53. “Well, what do you suggest?” .  Servos whirred. “You said it yourself.”

Pleck looked blank again. “I'm sorry, what?” 

“I should juck you. It is my frame’s primary purpose, after all. It'll warm you up in no-time”. 

“Uhhhh I don't know C, I mean I've never, this isn't how, I don't … think of you like that…” he trailed off. 

“Do you have any other suggestions about ways to keep you warm until we are  _ hopefully  _ rescued?” 

Pleck did some quick calculations in his brain. He'd never jucked a droid before, and this definitely wasn't how he'd pictured his first time. He’d hoped it would be in a bed at the very least, which in of itself would be a luxury at this point. He would be lieing if he said he'd  _ never  _ thought of C-53 in that way before. But he was coming up empty with other ideas besides sitting in that chair until he became a Telluiran-popsicle. 

“I mean, I guess?” 

C-53 cocked an eyebrow. “You needn't sound so enthused about my attempt  _ to save your life _ . You can just sit here and freeze if you wish.” 

“No! No. I'm sorry C, it's just uh… I, uh…”

“This was my job for a very long time, Emissary Decksetter, you needn't worry. I'll be ‘gentle’.”

Pleck began to blush. “Could you at least call me Pleck? Given the situation, Emissary Decksetter sounds so formal”. 

“Of course, Pleck”. 

There was a pause. It sounded weird to both of them. 

C-53 helped the Pleck-burrito out of the chair and onto the cavern floor. He gently parted the edges of the curtain to crawl into the burrito with him, “You can just lay back and think of Rangus 6, if it helps.”  

Pleck cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh boy.” he whispered to himself as C-53 tenderly caressed his face. Pleck was surprised at how warm, and only ever so slightly sticky, C-53’s fingers were. He decided to just close his eyes and just let what happen, happen. 

What happened was that C-53 kissed him. He was delicate, at first, waiting for Pleck to relax. Slowly he felt the tension begin to leave the Tellurian, going from feeling like a plank of wood to an actual person. He ran his hands down Pleck's side, until he reached his shorts. Why this pink idiot was still wearing Federated Alliance shorts he had no idea, but at least they had an elasticated band. This allowed him to slide his hand under to caress Pleck's ass. It was about as soft as he'd been expecting, and when he squeezed it, Pleck gasped. C-53 chuckled, feeling Pleck's fingernails beginning to dig into the synthskin on his back. 

He was good at his job. He was going to show Pleck just how good. He slipped his other hand under the waistband and gently pulled down the navy shorts. C-53 was pleasantly pleased to discover a not inconsiderably sized member, already swelling from his touch. Tellurians were famously small after all, so he was pleased to have his expectations curtailed. 

He lowered his face down, exhaling a puff of warm breath before kissing the tip. He didn't want to overstimulate Pleck too soon - what would be the point of all this if he came in the first 30 seconds and froze to death anyway? Slow and steady was definitely the key. 

With that in mind, he ran his tongue down the underside of Pleck's shaft, before taking him into his mouth. Just the first inch or so at first, before carefully taking in a little more with every downwards bob. 

Pleck was gasping and moaning, caressing the sides of C-53s face. He'd lost the power of speech already, unable to remember the last time any one had been close enough to kiss him, let alone give him a blow job. Sparks were bursting in front of his eyes that weren't at all related to the light show. 

“Pleck?” he heard C-53 whisper. He opened his eyes. “Mm?” 

“Would you like me to juck you now?” 

Pleck nodded his head vigorously. “Mm-hm”. 

C-53 placed his hands under Pleck and gently rolled him onto his front. He lifted the Tellurian's hips up without challenge. 

C-53 paused. 

“Emissary Decksetter, is this a  _ tattoo _ ?” he asked, pulling Pleck's hips further up to inspect the black line art on his right buttock more closely. Pleck wiggled slightly in embarrassment, “No, I, uh-” C-53 cut him off. “Yes it is, it's a  _ Festuca arundinacea  _ seed. But also an  _ Avena Sativa  _ seed? But that's not grass.”

A small voice came back, “It's my favourite.” 

The droid laughed. “I hope I didn't embarrass you, Emissary Decksetter. Here, let me make it up to you.” he slid one of his hands under Pleck and took his pink shaft, smoothly working it up and down. Pleck’s voice hitched in his throat “Y-You're forgiven.” 

With a whirring noise Pleck had not heard before, the compartment in C-53s groin slid down to allow his synth-penis to come free. It was the same colour as the rest of his skin, a pale greyish white. All along the length of his shaft were small bumps which, with another whirring sound, secreted a clear lubricant.  The droid covered his cock with it, then gently applied some to Pleck's hole. This caused him to jump slightly, before settling back down into his elbows. 

“Sorry!” he whispered, feeling his face flush in anticipation. It'd been a long time since he last jucked someone, and he was quivering with anticipation. 

“It's quite alright, Pleck.” C-53 said in a low voice that reminded Pleck of marbles. The droid placed one hands onto the soft buttocks in front of him, spreading them slightly to allow himself to push the head of his penis against Pleck's opening. “Tell me if you need me be gentle”. 

He saw a head nodding, and proceeded to slide himself slowly, luxuriously, inside Pleck - who at this point was flushing a deep pink all over. It had been a long while since C-53 had jucked anyone, and he had to admit to himself that he had missed it. He had forgotten just how pleasant it felt, and was secretly pleased he was getting to do it again with someone he actually liked. Infuriating though Pleck was, he had become attached to him.

A muffled “mmmfm!” came from somewhere below, as Pleck buried his face into the curtain in delight, hands and feet clenching in unison with C-53s slow thrusting. He continued to work Pleck's shaft in rhythm with his own thrusts, hoping the Tellurian had noticed he had synced their jucking to pulsing light show still happening all around.

The droid smiled to himself as he realized Pleck had started pushing into him, urging him to go faster, thrust harder. 

Rod, he was good. 

He obliged, but not too vigorously - keeping some back to tease Pleck, to keep him warmer for longer. The droid could feel that the Tellurian was edging closer to climax, so he grasped Pleck's buttocks and gently withdrew. There was a much grumpier gasp. 

“Let's not get too greedy, Emissary Decksetter.” he said coquettishly, “We've got all night, after all.” 

Pleck nodded. “You're the expert.” 

“You're damn right I am.” C-53 declared, flipping Pleck over roughly onto his back. He slid his arms under pink legs and grasped hips, pulling them upwards. More lubricant oozed out of his nodules, allowing him to slide himself back into Pleck with ease. A gasp of pleasure and they were off to the races again. 

So it continued for as long as C-53 was able to keep Pleck edging - it felt like both many hours yet also only minutes had passed to them, until finally they both came, cries of delight echoing off the cavern walls. 

C-53 made sure they were both wrapped up tightly in the curtain to preserve as much of the heat they'd just worked up. Checking his internal chronometer, he realized it was early morning. With luck, rescue wouldn't be too far away. And if not? Well, he'd give Pleck some time to sleep and recover before trying to save his life again. 

 

Meanwhile, Dar had finished at the orgy hours ago. Upon trying to gain entry to the ice caves, they had found most of the deeper caverns blocked off by a cave-in. Knowing their luck, Pleck was probably still perfectly fine, but no amount of shouting could elicit a response. They had immediately returned to contact the governor so a rescue mission could be mounted. 

They sat outside on one of the many benches scattered around, watching people in protective gear troop into the caves. At this point Bargie had decided to reappear.

“Hey, what are you guys up to?” she blared loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. 

“Bargie, you will not believe what happened last night! Ok, so there was this Blarkian, right? You know how I've  _ always _ been into them, they’re just so…  _ Ephemeral…” _

  
  



	2. Picnic Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pleck gets to go on a day-trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to Nikita and Kishleylam, who helped with ideas and editing.

“Hey Bargie?” Pleck asked of the ceiling.  
“Yeah, what?”  
C-53, sitting nearby, rolled his eyes heavenward. Pleck cleared his throat, “I know we're on our way to meet your, uh, best friendship for brunch, but I noticed that your route takes us close to that picnic planet that… Everyone else got to visit. Do you think you could drop me off?”  
Bargie's rough voice paused a beat. “You want me to help you commit suicide by massive radiation poisoning? I mean I always figured you'd kick it sooner rather than later but you never struck me as the suicide type but sure yeah, whatever, I can spare 10 minutes.”  
Pleck laughed nervously. “Ahah no, I… Happened to be doing some research and found that the nearest star that had been generating all that radiation has gotten old enough that the amount is actually survivable for Tellurians! Everyone seemed to have… so much fun last time I wanted to see what it was like.”  
A pause, long enough for Pleck to wonder if Bargie was just going to flat-out refuse. Bargie’s first priority was always Bargie and, well, Pleck didn’t count.  
“Yeah I guess so, I'm flying real close to it anyway. I'm kicking you out in 5 minutes, so you better be ready.”  
Pleck grasped the nearest console.  
“You're not going to ‘drop me off’ like last time are you?” he yelped, knuckles turning white as he gripped the console for dear life. . His coccyx was still bruised from the rough landing on Milch, and the extra-curricular activities he and C-53 had then engaged in hadn't helped.  
Bargie barked a laugh. “I guess we'll have to see!”  
Pleck let go of the console and threw himself into getting ready as fast as his Tellurian body would let him, throwing open compartments and lockers looking for food and a carrier.  
A door opened, Dar entered with an already resigned look on their face. “What's all this hub-bub about?”  
“Oh, hey Dar!” Pleck greeted them with his usual chipper demeanour. “I'm going to check out that picnic planet you all visited without me.” he said, grinning.  
“Is that so?”  
“Hey, do you want to come with?” he asked, grin broadening.  
Darr didn’t even pretend to think about it. “You know what, I'm actually good, thank you. I've been meaning to try out my new Xmarse present, anyway.”  
Pleck's grin fell slightly. “That's ok, I get it.”  
Dar plonked down on the couch, fishing out her Flappy Garfon game from down the side of the cushions.  
C-53 looked on, and sighed. “Going to a picnic planet on your own? That is the most pathetic thing I've ever heard, Emissary Decksetter. Since you have no other viable companions, I'll go with you.”  
Sunshine spread across Pleck's face. “For real? Awesome!”  
C-53 sighed again, servos whirring. “I immediately regret my decision,” he said to no one in particular as in the background Pleck excitedly continued shoving things into a wicker basket.  
Dar began to leave, frowning as they realized what Pleck was doing. “Where did you get an actual wicker basket from?” she asked in a derisive tone.  
Pleck was unflappable. “I picked it up when we visited the Dumps. You know, just in case it ever came in handy. You wouldn't think they'd have much use for picnic baskets there… Maybe that was why no one was using it!”  
Dar gave him a look, standing up and stretching, throwing the game back on the couch. “Right. Anyway, Dar's got big plans. Try not to die, ok? You'll ruin the aesthetic of the park.”  
Pleck chuckled. That was the nicest thing Dar had said to him all week. It was all just part of their sense of humour.  
He hoped.  
He'd just managed to get enough supplies together when, without warning, Bargie's alarms went off, signaling that yes, the hatch was being opened. He grabbed the nearest console reflexively. “Are we there?”  
The floor rocked slightly, sending him stumbling into the array of buttons and levers. For once, Bargie had actually landed. “Yeah, we're here. Now hurry up, I don't want to be late. I'll be back in, uhhhh, let's say 3 hours? But don't get your hopes up. If we get into that Mimosa Gasoline it could turn into a session!” Bargie cackled.  
“Okay Bargie, have fun!” Pleck said as he and C-53 walked down her ramp and into the bright sunlight.  
Plush green meadows stretched in every direction, and the bright but non-deadly sun warmed Pleck immediately. Trees heavy with fruit made up a forest off to their left; to their right were a number of small lakes and short wooden piers with various pleasure craft tied to them. The breeze blown up by Bargie accelerating away brought with it the delicate scent of blooming flowers, fresh grass, and cherry gasoline. Pleck breathed in a deep lung-full and sighed happily.  
“Boy, this sure is the life, isn't it C-53?”  
Servos whirred as C-53 inclined his head. “There are certainly worse places to be. But-” he opened one of his many compartments, “if we're truly to have a perfect picnic, we need to be dressed accordingly.” he pulled out a neatly-folded sky-blue sundress and a cream jacket. “I mean, it's what you do on a picnic planet.”  
Engaging ‘Poker Face’ Protocol, C-53 thought to himself, _Could conning Pleck really be that easy?_  
Pleck gave him a furrowed smile. “Do you always have a change of clothes ready to go?”  
“Of course, Emissary Decksetter, one must always be ready in case of a picnic. Now come on, pick one.”  
“Uuuuh I don't know about this, C.”  
“Come on Pleck, think of all the holos you've ever seen. Think of _Partie de Bargie_. What were they always wearing?”  
Pleck thought for a moment, pursing his lips. “Well I mean technically you're right. Well...which one should I choose?”  
C-53 held up the dress. “The blue brings out the blonde in your eyes.” he said, genuinely believing the sentiment.  
Pleck shrugged and took the dress. “Well, OK then.” It slipped easily over his shoulders, the cream jacket neatly fitting C-53's frame. “I should have brought a hat.” Pleck mused, observing a complete dearth of clouds in the sky.  
C-53 pointed to the nearby trees. “Perhaps we should sit in that shade, Emissary Decksetter. Bargie isn't here, so we can't have you getting burnt like on Gesh. That truly was the most violent shade of red I've ever seen.”  
Pleck nodded emphatically, remembering that day too well.  
Pleck plonked himself down under the tree, C-53 lowering himself much more gracefully, chuirring quietly. He watched the Tellurian unpack the wicker basket, surprised to find himself thinking he actually looked cute in the dress. As he was considering this thought, Pleck pulled out a small powerpack from the basket and proffered it to C-53. “Here, I didn't want you to feel left out.”  
The droid was taken aback, thumbing the corners of the pack agitatedly. After everything they put him through, the Tellurian still genuinely cared about them. He took the battery pack, “Thank you.” he said in a smaller voice than usual.  
He wondered if Pleck had heard him as he'd already started shoving garfon drumsticks into his mouth. The droid shook his head slightly and leant back. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of that still-very-bright sun against his synthskin.  
“We should probably talk about what happened on Milsch.” he announced, apropos of nothing. He realised the sound of masticating had stopped, prompting him to open an eye.  
Pleck had bbq sauce around his mouth, ignored while he sat there quietly, looking at C-53.  
“Yeah, I guess so. Uh… oh boy. I… appreciate you keeping me alive.” Pleck stumbled over the words, wiping the sauce from his face and fingers.  
C-53 sat up straight. “Was that all it was to you, Emissary Decksetter?”  
Pleck blushed delicately, almost imperceptible over his usual pinkness. “I mean, don't get me wrong. Once I… let you work your magic, it was very enjoyable. You really are very good at what you do, C.”  
“I know.” C-53 sat up straighter, pleased Pleck had enjoyed himself but feeling slight apprehension about what he intended to say next. “To that end, I have a proposal.”  
Pleck's blush bloomed brighter. “HEY WHOA-”  
“Not that kind of proposal, you dummy. I mean to say that I also enjoyed the time we spent together. I didn't realize how much I missed jucking until I got a taste of it again, and therefore I would like to extend to you the possibility of becoming “juckbuddies”. Where appropriate, of course.”  
Pleck was biting his lower lip. Part of him was convinced C-53 was only offering out of pity, but for once his logical side prevailed, reasoning that the droid wouldn't offer to do anything he did not actually want to do.  
“Ok, yeah.” he said, a smile creeping up his face. “That sounds pretty great.”  
Servos whirred. “Naturally we'll need to hide it from the crew - I swear Dar has a sixth sense about these things and, well, it's pretty hard to hide things from Bargie. But not impossible.” He cocked an eyebrow.  
Pleck thought he was picking up what C-53 was putting down. “But to be extra sure, it would sure be safer to take care of business while they're not around, right?” He was leaning across the picnic spread now.  
C-53 chuckled, swiping everything in front of them to one side and launching forward to pin Pleck to the ground by his wrists. He kissed him - not too hard, but definitely not as timidly as last time. He had confidence on his side now, bolstered by feeling Pleck return the kiss just as eagerly. The droid paused, “You know what's best about sundresses?” he asked in a low voice, straddling the Tellurian. Pleck shook his head.  
“Getting to rip them off.” he said, grasping the collar of the sundress with both hands and ripping out. Pleck gasped and giggled, “whoa!”. The blue dress fell away in tatters, revealing the shorts and shirt Pleck was still wearing underneath. C-53 hungrily went back down for another kiss as he whipped Pleck's shirt up and over his head. The Tellurian was already looking very flushed, but in a way very much unrelated to the high sun.  
C-53 began kissing Pleck's neck as he pulled at the shorts - the hips within wiggling to aide the removal. He went in to gently nibble a pink ear, asking, “How would you like to juck, Emissary Decksetter?” while shrugging out of the jacket.  
A breathy “hng”, followed by a throat being cleared. “Do you think I could go on top this time, please?” Pleck asked, clearly still embarrassed by the whole situation despite the tent he was pitching belying just how much he needed it.  
“Of course, Emissary Decksetter. Would you prefer to juck my faux-defecation hole or my synth-vagina?”  
Pleck fell silent for a moment.  
“You… You have a _vagina_?” he asked, disbelief dripping from every word.  
“Of course, I'm a sexbot. I was made to cater to the needs of hundreds of species. Just because I present as male doesn't mean I can't fulfill pretty much any desire you could care to think of.”  
Pleck swallowed heavily, suddenly cursed with choice. “OK um, your uh…” then in a quieter voice, “your defecation hole, please? Which, by the way, we need to come up with a better name for. That is thoroughly unsexy.”  
C-53's servos spun up as he flipped over onto all-fours. “Ready when you are.”  
Pleck swallowed again, wiggling free of his underwear and kneeling behind C-53. He gently pushed the tip of his penis between the droid’s off-white buttocks and coming to rest with the length of his shaft comfortably sandwiched as he leant forward with one hand and grasped C-53s dick. The droid sighed a deep, heavy sigh that made Pleck quiver. He gently worked the shaft, and as it released clear-lubricant in response to his touch, he leant upright and applied it to his own shaft. He pushed the tip of his penis against the soft white buttocks again, this time searching out the inviting hole. He found it, and slid slowly into the droid. They moaned in unison, finding the release they'd both been craving for the last few weeks.  
Pleck began sliding back and forth, trying to hold himself back from being too vigorous too soon,but the perfect amount of pressure was squeezing him in just the right way and he was so hungry for it. He found himself giving in anyway, grasping C-53's hips and thrusting faster and faster. Just as Pleck was finding his rhythm, something smacked him in the head and bounced onto the grass.  
He stopped thrusting for a moment, thrown off by the pain in his skull. Looking down he saw a large pink fruit laying there, split open from the impact. “Ow! What the juck?” he muttered.  
C-53 craned round to look at Pleck, servos churring. “Is everything alright, Emissary Decksetter?”  
“Uh, yeah.” he said, sounding distracted and rubbing his temple. “Sorry about that.”  
With that, Pleck shook his head, focussed up, and went back to the task at hand. He began thrusting again, taking no time to work back up to full pounding. Sweat started to bead on his brow, a combination of the physical exertion and the hot sun beating down through the leaves.  
The droid's moans were a delight to his ears, bringing him true contentment with every plunge. He couldn't tell where he ended and C-53 began, so he reached back around to grasp the droid's dick again. This elicited a delighted “OH!”, cloud-coloured fingers digging into grass, birds startled from nearby trees. C-53 had not been expecting Pleck to be very assertive with his jucking, but to his surprise he was enjoying this change in the usual Tellurian demeanour he'd become accustomed to.  
Pleck's moans began to crest as C-53 bounced against him as hard as he felt able to without knocking the Tellurian over. A sudden slightly strangled cry from Pleck, a more dignified moan from C-53, and they collapsed forward - both shooting their respective loads.  
Sweat was dripping down the Tellurian's face as he lay down next to the droid, chest still heaving. C-53 rolled onto his side to look at Pleck, pushing a damp blue curl away from his face.  
“That was….” the droid began, but trailed off.  
“That certainly was.” Pleck replied, eyes heavy-lidded and the biggest smile on his lips.  
They lay in silence for a moment, Pleck’s breathing beginning to return to normal.  
“If we're going to do that again,” C-53 began, “We're going to need to work on your volume.”  
“Was I really that loud?” Pleck asked.  
“Would you like me to play you back a clip?” C-53 asked with a roguish smile.  
“NO! No! I believe you!” Pleck panicked. It hadn't even occurred to him that C-53 would be recording the whole event. “You won't…. Share that with anybody, right?”  
C-53 smiled slyly. “I can promise you the only time that clip will be watched is by me during my alone times.”  
Pleck somehow managed to turn an even deeper shade of pink.  
C-53 furrowed his brow, reaching up a hand to run through Pleck's curls. “Emissary Decksetter, why is there _fruit pulp_ in your hair?” Pleck reached up a hand and felt the stickiness. “Oh, that! Yeah a space-grapefruit or something hit me in the head back there.”  
“Space-grapefruit?” skeptical servos whirred.  
“Oh, you know. Like regular grapefruit but bigger and pinker.”  
“How apt.” C-53 said, standing up. He grabbed Pleck's clothes, throwing them in his direction. They landed directly on his face. “Come on, Emissary Decksetter, we can't sit around here all day.”  
“Can't we?” a muffled voice replied.  
Indignant servos whirred. “You were the one who wanted to visit a picnic planet, were you not?”  
Pleck sat up and started to dress himself. “I guess so.” He leant down to pick up a few Garfon legs, covered in grass though they were, and followed the retreating form of C-53. He was heading for a break in the trees where a path started, leading into the woodland. The trees were just close enough together to block out a decent amount of sunlight. It was enough that Pleck started to notice bioluminescent fungi lining the path, glowing a gentle blue. They reached a small stream running through the copse, light glittering off the lazy water.  
Pleck sighed happily. “You know, C-53,this place is pretty romantic.”  
“Don't go getting any ideas, Emissary Decksetter.” he said, giving Pleck the side-eye.  
“Hah, I'm sure I don't know what you mean.” the Tellurian said, hands firmly in pockets. He was considering what to say next when something caught his eye, movement between the trees.  
“Hey, look! Deer!” he said, pointing. C-53 turned to follow his indication.  
“Those are actually Heorot, but I can see how you could get them confused. If you'll observe–” C-53 began, but was interrupted by the sound of thrusters overhead, the trees now rocking back and forth in the wind from Bargie's engines. The Heorot had, of course, fled by this point, their egress hastened by the loud voice that came booming down.  
“Hey, where the juck are you guys? Bargie hasn't got all day.”  
Pleck sighed, following C-53 back up the path. As they broke through the treeline, they were greeted by Dar waiting at the bottom of Bargie's ramp to meet them.  
“You guys have fun?” they asked.  
“Oh for sure!” Pleck replied, as all 3 boarded the ship.  
“It was very educational. “ C-53 agreed.  
“Uh-huh!” Dar replied, “Is that why you've got grass-stains on your shorts?”  
Pleck spun round to check out what they meant. “Oh! That! Yeah I, uh, fell out of a tree.”  
“Mm-hm?” Dar replied, somehow still sounding incredulous.  
“Yeah! That's actually how I got this bump on my head. Speaking of, I should probably get this checked out. C-53, remind me where we keep the first aid kit again?” not being able to remember where the first aid kit was given their track record was a flimsy lie at best, but C-53 appreciated the excuse to escape from Dar's penetrating gaze.  
“Of course, Emissary Decksetter, let me show you the way. If we're not careful that could swell up to the size of… _A space-grapefruit_.”


	3. The PLINT-cident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C-53 gets more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kishleylam again is a goddess for helping me with this 💖
> 
> CW angst

A few months had passed since the visit to the Picnic Planet. The crew had nearly died only a few times, but had made new friends along the way. Dar had gotten to know VMOM Sunblighter especially well, and Miss Janelle had sent them several more letters. Pleck was delighted every time one of her e-missives arrived. He had never told the others but he hadn't had the best relationship with his parents; he had rebelled against the heavy expectation to take over the farm, and his time in space had never allowed him the opportunity to try and rebuild those bridges. This maternal attention from Miss Fitzmeyer warmed his heart every time.  
Pleck and C-53 had managed to sneak around without Dar, Nermut or Bargie cottoning on to their activities. They'd had an especially interesting mission to a planet of breadmakers, just the two of them the entire time. C-53'd had ways of using butter that Pleck had never even dreamt of.  
They had felt a little bad, watching Nermut and Dar going through such a rough time - but not too bad as they were having a lot of fun, made easier when Nermut had just departed Bargie without warning. C-53 had found himself making excuses to just be around Pleck, regardless of if they had a mission. He'd found the Tellurian actually spent a fair bit of time just walking Bargie’s corridors, examining her consoles and rooms with no aim in particular. On the occasions that the droid accompanied him, sometimes they wouldn't even talk.  
Today though, Pleck was sat on Bargie's couch reading a datapad adaption of his favourite graphic novel, when the familiar hailing chime sounded.  
“Emissary Decksetter, I have an incoming transmission from Missions Operations Manager Nermut Bundaloy.” C-53 announced, coincidentally just entering from a side passage. At the sound of C-53's voice, Pleck found the hairs on the back of his arm rise, finding more and more that the droid's very presence had begun to elicit a physical, Pavlovian response. He felt a shiver go down his spine, which he quickly shook off.  
“Hey, Nermut!” Pleck said, “You got a mission for us?”  
“Hey, you're in a chipper mood!” Nermut replied, “I like it! A happy crew is a happy mission, that's my motto.”  
Servos whirred, “Missions Operations Manager Nermut Bundaloy, when have you ever said that before in your life?” C-53 asked, incredulous as ever.  
“I've said it before, you guys just weren't in the room at the time. Anyway, I've got a distress call happening and you're the closest ship.”  
“ _Uuuuugghhh_.” Bargie chimed in. “Again? Really? I'm not a taxi service, y'know.”  
A door opened, Dar entered with an emery board in hand.  
“You guys really work Bargie far too hard. She's a star, you know. She deserves much better treatment.”  
“ _Thank you_.” Bargie agreed. “I'm working my engines to the bolts.”  
Pleck looked up at the ceiling. “Bargie, can you like, feel things with your engine?”  
There was a long pause.  
“What is the pink one asking now?” came the exasperated response.  
“Just ignore him, Barge.” Dar replied, now polishing her chest talons.  
“I fully intend to.”  
“Anyyywwayyy” Nermut piped up, finally able to slide back into the conversation. “I'm sending you the coordinates. We don't have any details about who sent it or why but, y'know, distress signals are generally pretty important-”  
“Are you trying to _chastise_ me, _Bormot_? You know what, FINE, I'm going, but only because it's what I feel like doing, not because you told me to.” Bargie sounded fully exasperated, powering up her thrusters so forcefully she knocked Dar and C-53 back a step.  
“That's fine, whatever it takes Bargie.”  
The Bargarean Jade did not reply directly to him, muttering aloud “I'm going into Pout Mode.”  
“Alright. Good luck guys, I'll check in with you later.” Nermut signed off, and the line went dead.  
“It looks like we'll be there shortly.” C-53 announced, sitting on the couch next to Pleck. “Can you tell us anything about where we're going, Bargarean Jade?”  
“I'm pouting.”  
“I guess we'll find out soon enough, hey guys?” Pleck chimed in.  
“Whatever, let me know when we get there, ok?” Dar had already left the bridge.  
Pleck turned to C-53 and cleared his throat to speak, but he was interrupted before he could even open his mouth by C-53 holding up a finger. He paused, waiting for the sound of Dar's door to swoosh closed.  
“Yes, Emissary Decksetter?”  
For once Pleck took the social cue and replied in a sotto voce tone, “I was just going to ask if you had a plan for when we get down there? Well, I mean, for the mission, not necessarily for… y'know, _that_.”  
C-53 rolled his eyes but smiled regardless. “Once we get planetside I suggest we assess the terrain and formulate a targeted plan based on life forms and/or architectural presence.”  
“Soooo what you're saying is wait and see?”  
Servos whirred. “I wouldn't be that reductive, but essentially, yes.”  
Pleck nudged C-53 with his elbow, waggling an eyebrow. “Cool.”  
“Emissary Decksetter, are you trying to _flirt_ with me?”  
“Is it working?”  
“Wait and see. ”

Before long Bargie was descending on the planet, coming to rest in what looked like a market square. There were falling-down buildings everywhere - it seemed apparent that they were in the middle of what had been until very recently a warzone. Beige buildings with very few intact windows spread out down nearby streets.  
The 3 of them walked down Bargie's ramp, crumbling concrete crunching underfoot.  
“You kids have fun, I'm going to stay here and have a nap, m’kay?”  
Dar turned back briefly, “Ok Barge, sweet dreams.”  
Pleck gave Dar a confused look. “Do ships _dream_?”  
C-53 chuckled, “Only of electric sheep, Emissary Decksetter.”  
Pleck's face stayed consternated. “Is that true?”  
Dar butted in, “100%, Pleck. Right, I'm going to go and check out that building over there, see if anyone's still alive.” they said, indicating specifically which one by waving the barrel of her ion-cannon “You guys go search the other buildings. Together, I assume.”  
Pleck shot C-53 a look, who returned a side-eyed glance. Did Dar know?  
Pleck bristled. “ _Actually_ , I thought I'd go check out the building with the roof still mostly intact. On my own.”  
C-53 sighed. “Alright, I’ll go and investigate the multi-story down the road. A cursory scan indicates that it is still structurally sound.”  
“Alright, cool. Meet back here in an hour.” Dar cocked her cannon and headed off,  
“Emissary Decksetter, don't tread anywhere that looks damaged, or on anything metal. I don't want to have to come rescue you.”  
Pleck patted C-53 on the shoulder. “I'm sure I'll be okay.”  
It was a familiar gesture that caught C-53 off guard. It was not typical Pleck behaviour.  
They split off, and he pondered this as he trudged down the road, wondering if he should be worried about what was happening. He paused at the entrance to the building, looking around. There were no obvious signs about the original function of this structure. Through double doors was a spacious lobby, littered with glass and drywall debris. 2 sets of stairs led off, one going up, one going down. C-53 flipped a mental coin and followed the stairs down, reasoning anyone still alive might have considered the lower level to be safer. He cautiously walked down the steps, daylight fading away the lower he went. By the time he reached the bottom step it was almost completely dark, which would have been a problem for Dar or Pleck, but fortunately C-53 could see a variety of wavelengths of light, including infra-red.  
The building was much more stable below ground, with hardly any battle damage being apparent. The corridor leading away from C-53 had a number of locked doors on either side, except for one at the very far end. A sliver of white light was just visible under the door. Feeling hopeful, the droid gently walked towards it.  
Upon opening the door, all hope immediately evaporated. 5 ion-canons were all cocked and pointed at his face.  
He sighed heavily. “Juck my life.” he muttered, inaudible over the phrase “Hey, get down on the ground, please?” being chanted by heavily armoured individuals.  
C-53 complied, going down on his knees, procuring his fake-FAIC from one the many compartments scattered about his torso. Something wasn't quite right, but it took him a second to realize what was niggling at him.  
“Which one of you is the alpha?”  
The 5 troopers all exchanged looks, “Well I feel like I'm sort of the alpha at telling jokes-”  
Another interrupted him, “I'm kinda the alpha at doing word-puzzles-”  
A third began talking over the first two, “I'd like to think I'm the alpha at starting conversations-”  
This confirmed C-53's suspicions. He was dealing with five PLINTs. Not as hairy a situation as if it were five CLINTs, but nonetheless they were all armed and dangerous, even if not intentionally so.  
C-53 quickly glanced around the room, trying to assess the situation. A sturdy metal table and chair, strip lights hanging from the ceiling. On the wall opposite was several control panels, a monitor and a variety of buttons and blinking lights. Set into the wall was what looked like an as-yet unopened safe. There were no other exits, and by now the PLINTs had surrounded him. The droid did some calculations and formulated a plan.  
“Excuse me, officer?” C-53 began, in a lower than usual tone of voice, gazing up at the individual directly in front of him. The PLINTs ceased babbling and turned to look at him. “Am I right in thinking you're the PLINT that's best at handling unexpected situations?”  
Still on his knees, C-53 shuffled forward a few inches. “The one who's the alpha at resolving problems… amicably?” the droid reached up and hooked his fingers behind the belt, still looking up with heavy-lidded eyes.  
“UH” the PLINT stuttered, all five of them taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. “I mean, I guess so?”  
C-53 didn't want to give them any time to ruminate on what was going on, so immediately unzipped the PLINT's cargo pants, dropping them to the ground. He could tell his plan was working as the PLINT was obviously aroused. The droid looked back up, smiling coquettishly. “I knew you were the alpha,” he said in the huskiest tone of voice he could muster.  
This was going to be a breeze. Given all the frequent (and enjoyable) experiences he'd had with Pleck, he knew exactly how to get these PLINTs eating out of the palm of his hand. Probably quite literally if he put his mind to it.  
C-53 proceeded to slide the briefs off the PLINT's hips and down to his ankles, the PLINT in question just stuttering wordlessly. The droid was pleased to see a familiar penis pointing up at him - and yet, not exactly the same. He frowned slightly, something niggling in the back of his mind. Regardless, he hoped any latent sexual desire Pleck had felt towards him might have somehow been copied over during the cloning process, and it seemed he was right. He paused for a moment - would Pleck be okay with this? The droid came to the conclusion that they were not dating, and the PLINTs were clones so were essentially him anyway.  
C-53 hungrily took the whole member into his mouth at once, eliciting a gasp from under the helmet. He began bobbing up and down enthusiastically, grasping the shaft with his left hand while with his right he grasped a buttock.  
The other PLINTs were, fortunately, just standing around, dumbstruck but okay with watching what was going on. C-53 even heard at least one other zipper behind him being lowered. He smiled as he sucked enthusiastically, knowing exactly how Pleck liked him to use his tongue.  
The PLINT he was pleasuring was breathing heavily now, resorting to removing his now-steamed up helmet. C-53 decided to change up the narrative to make sure he kept their full attention.  
He stood up, brushing his lips against the PLINTs ear and said in a stage-whisper “You're such a big, strong alpha; I need you to juck me. I need you to _show_ me who's in charge.” he placed his off-white hands on the PLINTs shoulders and applied gentle downward pressure. The PLINT willingly, wordlessly collapsed backwards onto the table behind him. C-53 had already hopped up onto the table and was straddling him by the time he was fully prone, lubed hands ready to go. Giving the PLINT no time to think, he lowered his blackhole (Pleck's new nickname for his faux-defecation hole) onto the willing member, and slid all the way down until he had fully swallowed the cloned-Tellurian's dick. The droid realised with delight that not only had the PLINT tentatively begun stroking his synthpenis but that most, if not all, of the PLINTs had begun masturbating by now. He grinned down at the Pleck-clone under him, bouncing away. His plan was to either keep these guys going long enough until the others came to rescue him or juck every one of them until they were tuckered out and he could make his escape.  
From his left, one of the PLINTs nervously approached. “I- I'm the alpha at getting blowjobs.” he asserted in a quavering voice, clearly something he'd been working up the courage to say.  
“Of course you are.” C-53 replied, grasping the hips of the second PLINT and maneuvering him up and onto the table, into a comfortable position for all of them. He proceeded to slowly begin running his tongue along the underside of the new but familiar shaft. The droid had just begun sucking in earnest when he felt someone moving behind him.  
“I'm the PLINT whose best at team work, guys.” C-53 heard him say, feeling warm, slightly clammy hands grasping his hips. The droid slowed his bouncing to a much more leisurely pace as he felt the 3rd PLINT pushing his tip up against his hole.  
_Engaging orgy protocol_ , C-53 thought to himself as he felt himself being stretched in the most pleasurable way. It had been a long time since he had engaged in a gangbang, but he recalled one party fondly. They had given him all the hyper-proton fuel he could ever want.  
Before he could become lost in memory too much, he realised the last 2 PLINTs had crowded round the table. C-53 continued to luxuriously ride the 2 Pleck-clones that were filling him up, but stopped sucking for a brief moment. “You're the PLINTs that are best at overseeing operations, right?” he asked, grasping a dick in both hands as he went back down on the quivering cock in front of him. He had no trouble ensuring everyone was being worked at the same rhythm, all of them moaning with need. C-53 hadn't had this much fun in… He couldn't actually remember how long. And yet… That niggling feeling returned. They had agreed on this arrangement, why was he thinking about it now? He pushed the disquiet away, beginning to slowly ratchet up his intensity - bouncing harder, sucking firmer, jerking his hands faster. It seemed like no one was coming after him, so Plan B it was then.  
The moans around him were getting louder, more fervent. He had never dreamt of getting to pleasure so many Plecks at once, but the sound of 5 of them being all brought to climax simultaneously was literal music to his ears.  
C-53 drew it out as long as he could, fairly confident now in how much edging Pleck could take, until suddenly all at once 5 voices cried out in unison. The droid felt hot cum filling all of his orifices and his cupped hands, his own synth-penis spurting lube over the PLINT under him. The room was suddenly much quieter; the only the sound in the stunned silence was that of clones trying to catch their breath. C-53 sighed, feeling not right in himself, a tinge of regret colouring his mind.  
“So, why did you guys set off the distress signal?”  
A pause before a few PLINTs answered.  
“We didn't.”  
“I told you to be careful while trying to reprogramme that safe. “  
“How was I supposed to know the big red button didn't open the safe?”  
C-53 sighed heavily, immediately regretting his decision. Of course they were bickering. He had just manoeuvred himself free and off the table when the door slammed open.  
“C-53!” a now very familiar voice exclaimed, “I found y-”  
The voice was cut short, trousers being pulled up and zippers zipping were the only sound in the sudden dead silence. C-53 turned to address Pleck but faltered when he saw the look on the Tellurian's face. It was a mix of confusion and sadness, with a trace of anger.  
“Emissary Decksetter, I-”  
C-53 began but Pleck had already disappeared. He turned to the PLINTs, “Gentlemen, I trust our business here is concluded? Good luck opening that safe.” he said as he ran out and up the corridor.  
The droid caught up with Pleck just outside the broken doors. “Pleck-” he tried again.  
“No.” the Tellurian cut him short, in a quiet but firm voice. “I don't want to know what happened down there. I saw enough to get the idea. I'm just glad I didn't find you sooner.” voice quavering slightly now.  
“I can see you're upset.” C-53 began, “but I must confess, I don't understand why.”  
“ _What_?!” Pleck exclaimed, outraged.  
“We aren't in a relationship, Pleck, we never even discussed being exclusive. I thought you were happy with this arrangement. Those PLINTs are basically you, anyway.”  
“But they're _not_ me!” Pleck was almost yelling now, his voice raw with pain. “How can you think that? I thought… I know we're not in a relationship but I thought maybe we had, y'know, _feelings_ for each other.”  
“Emissary Decksetter, please-”  
“No, you know what? I don't want to hear it.” Pleck turned on his heel and walked back up the road at a fast pace, waving his hand dismissively behind.  
C-53 decided it was best to give the Tellurian some space. He began walking up the road after him but at a much slower speed, his mind reeling. _Dear Rod, what had he done? How could he be so stupid? How could he have Plecked up this badly?_ C-53 caught himself - why was he using Pleck's name in such a pejorative manner still? He should really be saying that he dropped the marble on this one.  
He reached the intersection and turned the corner to Bargie and nearly walked right into Dar.  
“Oh, he found you then.” they said. “Do you know what's got up his butt? He completely ignored me and just went straight up Bargie's ramp.”  
“I have some notion, yes.” C-53 replied as they approached said ramp.  
“Did you find out who sent the distress signal?” Dar asked, ducking their head as they too entered Bargie.  
“In fact I did. I bumped into a gaggle of CLINTs trying to break into a safe. They apparently set off an automated distress signal in the process.”  
Bargie's hatch started to close behind them as they made their way towards the bridge.  
“Hey, what's up with the squishy one? Usually he's a chatty-Kathy but he completely ignored me to go and sulk in his cupboard.” Bargie asked, already engaging thrusters to take off.  
“He, uh, found something that didn't agree with him.” C-53 replied enigmatically.  
“Is it… contagious?” Dar asked, reflexively stepping back a pace despite the fact that the droid was totally inorganic.  
“He probably just needs to sleep it off.” he replied, trying to keep any concern out of his voice.  
Bargie chimed in, “I guess you didn't find any survivors or anything? Not that I'd let you bring them on my ship anyway.”  
C-53 shook his head. “It was a bumble of PLINTs, Bargie.”  
“Ew.” was the only response, clearly now done with the conversation.  
“My battery is running pretty low, I should go and recharge it.” C-53 informed Dar.  
“Sure, bud. Sweet dreams. Don't let the electric sheep bite.”  
C-53 wordlessly returned to his charging-chamber. He was not going to power done while he recharged this time. He needed to think about the situation he now found himself in, and what he could do to fix it.


	4. The One With the Titanic Reference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The council of 7 are on their way, the rebels are preparing the best they know how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kishleylam knocked it out of the park helping with this one 💝

It had been a long day. Worse than that, it had been a long month. Pleck and C-53 had tiptoed around each other as best they could, carrying on their missions as normal. Today they had all completed a successful mission - to pick up u.everybody, but it came with the grave news that they were being ordered to fight in the battle against the Federated Alliance. Everyone had assembled at the Rebel Headquarters for a rousing speech, and to prepare for what was to come. The crew didn't know if they were coming back. No one did. To that end, a “celebration” party was being held im the commissary after hours. Seesu had thought it would be exactly what everyone needed for morale. Rolphus had thought it was a dumb idea given that everyone was going to die anyway; why not just get it over with?  
This was exactly the argument that Pleck and C-53 found themselves in the middle of, loud music blaring, spotlights the only illumination, coarse moonshine in battered canisters already being wheeled out. Their aggravated voices were so loud that Pleck and C-53 could hear them very clearly over the music. “Guys, I gotta say,” Pleck chipped in as he always did, “I'm so glad you're back together. You make such a great team.”  
Two angry faces immediately turned to stare at him.  
“Who told you we were back together?” Seesu yelled.  
Pleck was taken aback. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you said-”  
“What? Tell me what I said?”  
Rolphus weighed in, “Yes, tell us what she said, _Pleck_.”  
Pleck blinked a few times. “Well, I mean, earlier you guys were getting along so great, you were doing that ‘breathe and count to 10’ exercise your therapist said you should do-”  
Rolfus stepped forward a pace. “Are you telling us what to do?”  
Seesu placed a calming hand on his hunched shoulder. “Now Rolphus, he has a point, we should be doing our exercises. Let's leave this poor pink boy be, huh?”  
Rolfus huffed through his nose. “I guess.” Seesu began guiding him away. “Let's get you somewhere quiet, upbeat music always did rile you up.”  
This left Pleck and C-53 in what would have been awkward silence but for the song pounding from the speakers behind them. They exchanged a glance, then looked back down at the floor. This was the first time they'd been ‘alone’ since the incident during the rescue mission. Dar had found a group of other rebels playing a tabletop game in a corner and had immediately taken over as DM; Nermut had followed to watch.  
C-53 cleared his throat, in a way designed to make him sound more organic. Still looking at his feet in the dimness he thought hard and formed his words carefully.  
“I'm sorry, Pleck.”  
The Tellurian shifted uncomfortably. “Are we doing this right now?”  
“Well, every time we get a chance to talk alone you leave the room.”  
Pleck shuffled again. “I can't do this right now, C.”  
“When, then?” the droid's voice, already raised over the loud music, became heated. “We could die tomorrow.”  
Pleck was still looking at the floor. “I know, C. And I know that I was only ever a way for you to get sexual gratification. I've never even really been your friend. I don't know why the threat of impending death should change any of that.”  
C-53 servos whirred up. “How could you possibly think that, after everything we've been through? Is that why you were hitting on Bargie? To try to hurt me?”  
“NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU, C-53.” Pleck tried to yell but there was a hitch in his throat. Tears burning behind his eyes, he turned on his heel to leave, rubbing the palms of his hands angrily against his eyes. He hadn't been expecting to have That Talk today of all days; it caught him off guard enough that he'd let his emotions leak out of his eyes. He'd tried not to think about what he had walked in on, what he knew C-53 had done with those clones - it made him shudder to think of. He was only glad he hadn't caught them in the act - Pleck didn't think he could have handled seeing C-53 jucking anyone else. How could the droid not comprehend what he had done? How could he not even imagine that Pleck might have developed feelings for him over their time together?  
He shook his head, walking with purpose over to the table with the battered canisters on it. There had been some pretty strong moonshine back on Rangus VI that Pleck had snuck out of the cellar when he was a teen. He hadn't really drunk since then, but he handled himself fine back then and he needed a drink after the day he'd had. What was the worst that could happen?  
C-53 watched Pleck disappear into the crowd, restraining himself from following him. He knew he'd done wrong, he knew it the second he'd seen Pleck's face that terrible day. Logically, he'd thought they were having a casual dalliance. But what he'd known (and refused to confront) was the probability that Pleck had developed deeper feelings for him than the usual surface level attempt the Tellurian made to be friends with everybody. C-53 had wanted to just carry on with their casual arrangement to make both of their lives easier, because when it came down to it, he'd also been growing a deeper affection for Pleck than he'd intended. To face these truths would be to face the reality that they either had to deal with their emotions or call the whole thing off. It had been easier to just pretend everything was still casual. But C-53 knew he'd jucked up big, and now there was no time to fix it. Pleck wouldn't talk to him and the Council of 7 were expected tomorrow.  
C-53 sighed heavily. There was nothing to be done about it. He knew a few droids kicking around HQ. He was sure they would be able to help him drown his sorrows with some hyper-proton fuel.  
On the other side of the commissary, in a quieter corner, Pleck had already knocked back several tumblers worth of moonshine and had gone over to watch Dar's game. He was swaying gently, but steadying himself on the back of Dar's chair and looking over their shoulder as they led 5 other rebels on a daring high-adventure campaign that Dar had been working on in their free time. Nermut was sat on their shoulder, watching proceedings with a quiet intensity. He had a shot glass grasped in one clawed hand, looking huge against his tiny frame. Pleck leant down to whisper in Nermut's ear.  
“Hey, Nermie.”  
The lird turned to look up at Pleck, his little lizard cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “Y-yeah Pleck, old budy?”  
The Tellurian grinned at him. “Heard a rumour they've got a karaoke machine in the backroom.”  
Nermut's eyes lit up. “R-r-r-really??” he made a noise that could only be described as unbridled glee. “Will you help me set it up?!”  
“Of course, bud!”  
Nermut scurried off, Pleck followed, chuckling to himself. He was looking forward to seeing the looks on everyone's faces when they heard Nermut’s song about a speeder ride. He had just helped the bizard load up the machine and wheel it over to the speakers when he saw C-53 approaching with an agitated gait. The Tellurian stood up straight, swaying slightly, his usual chipper smile already dropped from his face. _What now?_  
The droid grabbed Pleck's wrists urgently, causing him no small amount of alarm. “I NEED TO TALK TO YOU URGENTLY, EMISSARY DECKSETTER.” C-53 was yelling, much louder than the music decibel level would have required.  
“Oh my rod, WHAT'S WRONG C-53? IS IT BARGIE? WHAT'S HAPPENING?” Pleck was immediately panicked, almost dropping his glass but only spilling a little onto his shirt.  
The droid shook his head. “NOTHING LIKE THAT. PLEASE, COME WITH ME.”  
Pleck nodded. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen C so agitated, something must be wrong. He followed the droid in a straight a line as he could as he was led by the wrist down the corridor. The music was just a dull thrum in the distance now.  
“EMISSARY DECKSETTER, I HAVE NOT BEEN DEDICATING THE AMOUNT OF PROCESSING POWER TO THIS DILEMMA THAT I SHOULD HAVE -”  
Pleck was wincing slightly, “WHY ARE WE STILL YELLING?”  
C-53 tried to readjust his vocal modulators accordingly, but his voice still came out louder and faster than usual, causing Pleck to blink reflexively.  
“Apologies Emissary Decksetter. My Previous Point Was To Say That I Have Been Negligent In Committing The Proper Amount Of Focus To-”  
Pleck butted in, a look of alarm still on his face but one ameliorated by the moonshine still filling his veins, “Are’we in danger? Wha's happening?”  
“Will You Stop Interrupting Me, You Dingus, I'm Trying To Tell You That I Love You-” C-53 blurted out before he realised what he was saying.  
Pleck reeled, physically stepping backwards. He felt nauseous - possibly from all the moonshine, but probably not.  
“Are you serious? Are you being seriously serious right now? Are you just saying that so I'll start talking to you again-” but he was cut off by C-53 enveloping him in his arms and kissing him deeply. Pleck melted into it, letting out a whimper. Once C-53 felt him relax, he pulled back a bit.  
“Of Course I Want You To Talk To Me Again! You Said It Yourself—We’re Basically Best Friends.” He grinned, unable to stop himself from pressing a peck onto his love’s cheek. “But I Don’t Just Want You To Talk To Me Again—“  
“C, I—I’m sorry to interrupt, but just, could you quiet down just a _tiny_ bit?” Pleck’s facial expression was an amusing mix of hopeful and contorted, thanks to the droid's robust volume.  
C-53 continued, lowering his volume as best he could. “I want to do _so_ much more than talk to you, Pleck! ” Another kiss, between the eyebrows this time. “I want to hold you, and laugh with you, and comfort you, and bicker with you, and just—“ A string of kisses, from his jaw to the spot on his neck behind his ear that drove him crazy. “—I want to _be with you_ , Pleck.”  
Pleck’s eyelids fluttered closed, his breathing growing heavy. “And jucking?”  
C-53 chucked into his ear, still a bit too loud for comfort, but there was a deep growl somewhere in the notes of his laughter that sent Pleck’s shivering. “Oh, you’d better jucking believe it.”  
He pulled back, cradling the Tellurian’s head in his hands and kissing him even deeper than before. Pleck succumbed, letting himself melt into the embrace. He was tired of the doubt, the pain, the angst. He wanted to believe in this one good thing C-53 was giving him, regardless of the consequences. His brain was fuzzy from the booze and the affection he felt surrounding him. The world outside of that kiss disappeared, the fervour of the droid kissing him and holding him so close the only thing that mattered.  
The droid pulled back to let the Tellurian breath, who instead just blinked in a heavy-lidded and dopey way “Why's you stop?”  
“ _I need you, Pleck_.” he said, still slightly too loud and fast, with an urgency that cause goosebumps to rise on the Tellurian's arms.  
“But I'm right here?” he smiled up at C-53, making the droid wonder if he was just jucking with him. He decided he didn't care, leant down and scooped the wobbly Tellurian into his strong, grey arms. Servos whirred up as he started carrying him down the corridor, pink arms wrapping around his shoulders.  
“Where we going?” Pleck asked, nuzzling into C-53's neck.  
“Wait and see!”  
The Tellurian weighed next to nothing in the droid's arms. He wasn't a lifter-bot by trade, but Pleck wasn't exactly the beefiest, and the hyper-proton fuel made him feel like he could do anything. He buried his nose into the blue curls and sighed deeply. Why had it taken him this long to just deal with what had been staring him in the face? They'd lost so much time they could have been spending together. But it didn't matter, he had Pleck now. The Tellurian looked groggily up at the droid, huge grin covering his face. C-53 peppered his face with small kisses as they went, trying to whisper sweet nothings but still failing with his volume control. “I meant what I said! You mean more to me than I realized!” Pleck hiccuped in response, but squeezed his arms tighter around the droid's neck.  
C-53 came to a stop in front of double doors and nudged the panel with his elbow. He missed it on the first attempt as Pleck picked that point to start nibbling on his ear. The droid got it on his second go, manoeuvring through the doors and into a cavernous hangar bay. Ships of all shapes and sizes filled the hall, ready to be called into action.  
C-53 spied a smaller fighter-plane with the canopy left open. He swung Pleck inside and climbed in himself, closing the hatch behind him.  
There were 2 adjacent seats inside, in front of panels of buttons, switches, dials and displays, LEDs now lighting up and peppering the array with colour. Pleck was sat on one of the seats, shirt already stripped off and thrown behind him somewhere.  
C-53 got down on his knees in front of the Tellurian, his knees clunking against the metal floor.  
“I'm so sorry, Pleck.” he said, his voice quieter, but still so loud in the small space, his hands resting on pink knees. “I jucked up, and I need to make it up to you, any way I can.” he leant forward, grey forehead resting on a knobbly-kneed pillow. Warm hands clasped his face, tilting it to look up at blonde eyes.  
“It's ok.” the voice was so soft now, barely above a whisper. “I don't think I can quite forgive you just yet, but that's something we can talk about after… After tomorrow.”  
C-53's eyebrows furrowed. “You can't know there will even be a tomorrow's tomorrow.”  
Sunshine spread across Pleck's face. His words slurred together in a mellifluous way. “Of course I do. I'll be with you. And Bargie, and Dar and Nermut. And even Beano. We might not always be the best crew, but I always know we'll be alright because we can get through anything together.”  
_This, this right here!_ , C-53 thought as he leant up to press his forehead against Pleck's, pink hands still caressing his face, _This was why I've fallen for this pink dope! With his pinky pink face and sandy blonde optimistic eyes!_  
“As long as we’re together!” the droid said, touching his nose to the Tellurians.  
Soft lips pressed against his smooth ones, in what he had to admit was the tenderest kiss he'd ever experienced. His previous lives hadn't left much space for romance, and he wondered if these were waters the both of them would be venturing for the first time.  
Pleck’s mouth tasted like liquor and fruit punch and home. He was stroking his face gently and rhythmically, and C-53 realized he was humming a little tune. Was that ‘ _When I'm Flying Through Space’_? He recognised it from when he'd totally accidentally heard him singing in the shower and definitely hadn’t been standing outside the restroom straining to hear his voice.  
Regretfully he broke the kiss.  
“How can I make things up to you, Pleck? Just name it, I'll do anything.” C-53 tried to keep his tone of voice as level and free-from imploring as possible.  
“There will be time for that later. For now, how about I let you do all the hard work?” the Tellurian grinned, face still flushed and the windows already beginning to steam. Inwardly he still felt guilty about the Bargie thing, not entirely certain what was going on there.  
“I'm more than happy to oblige.” the droid purred at him, helping Pleck free of the rest of his clothes, throwing them behind the seats to join the shirt crumpled there.  
“Let me give you a gift.” C-53 said. The Tellurian blinked asymmetrically back at him, then beamed a sunny smile. “Well, would be _rude_ to refuse a present, I suppose!”  
The droid grinned back, feeling that again the hyperproton fuel was making him more emotional than usual. He grabbed Pleck's hips and turned him over, the Tellurian happily flipping onto his knees, arms crossed on top of the seats. C-53 took a moment for himself to caress and squeeze the pink buttocks, drinking in the site of this naked body he'd missed intently. He rubbed a thumb over the tattoos on Pleck's left buttock, laughed and then booped them. The Tellurian had no idea what was happening but he started giggling anyway, wiggling his hips provocatively.  
The droid took the hint, placing one hand on each buttock and gently spreading them apart. He placed a surprisingly moist tongue on Pleck's perineum and slowly worked upwards, pausing to circle the rim. This elicited a shudder with a side order of non-vocal utterances from the Tellurian, utterly unfamiliar with what was happening but enjoying it thoroughly. He briefly remembered a conversation they had shared a few months ago about ‘bucket list’ things they'd always wanted to try.  
C-53 gently pushed his tongue into Pleck's anus, coming back out to lick the rim, before going back in to delicately tongue-juck the Tellurian. He found himself becoming more enthusiastic, trying to get vocal reactions to work out what worked best. Before long he felt Pleck beginning to buck under him, clearly in need of more.  
The droid withdrew, kneeling back and allowing the Tellurian to slide off and push C-53 into the seat. He immediately straddled him, leaning down for a kiss. His erection was already standing proud and pressing up against the droid's torso, who obligingly took the pink shaft in one hand, taking a moment to slide open the pelvis compartment his synth-penis was stored in. He grasped a pillowy buttock with one hand and pressed his tip up against the delicate little hole, knowing how much Pleck liked being teased.  
The Tellurian's breathing gained fervour as C-53 continued to tease him, pushing his gently self-lubricating head against him but never fully penetrating. He groaned in pleasure. He'd missed this. He'd missed C. He'd missed having fun, if nothing else. He missed-  
C-53 chose that moment to gently slide a few inches into Pleck, utterly derailing the train of thought. The droid began slowly thrusting away, fully withdrawing and then pushing just the top few inches still back in.  
The train was not only derailed but on fire. Pleck dug his fingers into C's shoulders, little “mfm!”s of pleasure punctuating each push.  
In an unsteady voice, Pleck whispered into the droid's ear. “I-I'm very impressed by how-... precise you’re being but I need _more_.” the last word almost came out as a growl.  
“With pleasure.” C-53 replied as he slowly slid all the way in. The Tellurian yelped in delight, stars bursting in front of his eyes as the droid ever so slowly withdrew all the way, and then slid all the way back in. He was giving Pleck the most gentle and yet the most thorough jucking he'd ever received, and both were utterly enjoying themselves. They weren't just jucking for the sake of jucking, they were revelling in the act and making it last.  
The Tellurian eventually gave in and and began bouncing up and down on C-53's robo-dick. He grasped the droids face, staring intently into his eyes. “C. C, I need you to juck me _hard._ ”  
Without a word the droid grasped Pleck by the hips, lifted him up, turned him round and bent him over the console. Pink hands grasped the top of the console as the droid leant over and immediately began pounding Pleck, eliciting “UHN!”s this time. The canopy wasn't high enough to allow him to stand fully, so C-53 bent forward slightly as he dug his metal fingers into the Tellurian's soft hips, pulling them against himself as he, buried his hard dick all the way in, over and over again. He was ploughing Pleck so hard the Tellurian was having to steady himself against the glass, hands leaving impressions in the totally misted canopy windows.  
“ ** _Harder!_** ” Pleck all but yelled, catching C-53 unawares. He'd never heard him be this demanding during sex before, but he was very much into it. Dropping all pretense of working as much length of shaft as he could, the droid focused on short, sharp thrusts, delivering as much power as he could. He realized he'd been hearing a thumping noise, so opened his eyes to realise the noise was Pleck's head knocking into the glass, but he didn't seem to mind.  
The Tellurian's voice began to raise in both decibel and pitch, all thoughts focused on the intense pleasure being driven home. To make sure he finished the job, C-53 reached round and grabbed Pleck's dick with both hands, their voices crescendoing in unison. The droid relished the feeling of the Tellurian's cock pulsating between his fingers as he shot cum over the console, the droid filling Pleck with his lubricant.  
They paused in the moment, Pleck huffing, hands sliding down the glass with a squeak. C-53 loved the feeling of his dick being spasmodically squeezed by Pleck's orgasm aftershocks, it was the most delicious feeling. He let them subside and then sat back on the chair. The Tellurian slumped backwards into the chair next to him, immediately pulling C-53 into a sweaty embrace, resting his head against the cotton-coloured torso.  
After a minute or two, Pleck cleared his throat.  
“Hey C-53?”  
The droid turned to look at him, but the Tellurian's eyes were closed as he nuzzled into his chest.  
“Yes, Pleck?”  
“Love you too, buddy.”  
C-53 blushed, pink LEDs in his cheeks glowing softly. He was about to respond when a third voice entered the conversation.  
“Hey uh, are you guys finished? Because that was _hot_.”  
Pleck looked around, startled, covering his pecks with his hands. “What's happening?”  
Servos whirred. “It would appear this ship has an artificial intelligence. A thirsty one at that!”  
The voice coming over the speakers chortled. “C'mon man, I'm a wordly ship, love is beautiful. I can't help it if I'm into physical acts of love. Speaking of, are you guys going to clean up in here before you go?”  
Pleck was bright red, fishing behind the seats for his clothes. “Of course, we're not savages!” he fished out a sock and proceeded to use it b try and wipe his cum off the control panel. C-53 couldn't help himself, laughter erupting from him. “Let me help you.” C-53 came over, one of his compartments sliding open to reveal wet-wipes. Pleck gratefully grabbed a few and fished up. He popped open the canopy, trying to manoeuvre over the edge while still holding the damp sock. He caught his foot on the edge and tumbled out. The droid was still chucking as he hopped out, helping Pleck up. Fortunately there were neither physical nor ego bruises, as the Tellurian was still drunk and had ragdolled on his way down. Pleck giggled uncontrollably as C-53 pulled him to his feet.  
C-53 chuckled. “How much did you have to drink?”  
“Two.”  
“Two...bottles?”  
Pleck shook his head emphatically. “Two shots!”  
“Oh, of course!” The droid couldn’t stop himself from laughing a little bit as he watched Pleck sway on his feet.  
“Hey, you guys come back any time, you hear?” the ship called to them as the canopy swung back down.  
“Will do, boss!” C-53 replied with an exaggerated salute, taking Pleck's hand in his. He grinned down at the Tellurian, who dopily returned the smile. They began walking back out of the hangar bay, swinging their clasped hands gently. The sock was still under the ship, completely forgotten.  
They followed the music back to the commissary, but Pleck paused before the doors could open. He tried to get his hand back from the droid, but C-53 refused to let go.  
“C'mon C, gimme my hand back.” he frowned pouting slightly, still blinking asymmetrically.  
“I Lost You Once, I'm Not Letting Go Again.” the droid was pacing up and down on the spot now, excess energy still working through his system.  
“But everyone'll see us.”  
“I DON'T CARE.” the droid was back to yelling again, but it seemed more intentional now.  
Pleck shrugged. “Alright, you're the boss. You'll let me have my hand back to get another drink though, yeah?”  
“You Presume There's Anything Left At This Point.”  
Pleck's eyes widened, images of Orange Beer flashing before him. “We better hurry up then!”  
The doors swooshed open, blasting them with sound. Everyone was up on their feet, and to their surprise, Nermut was on the mic singing a heartfelt song about _Chutes and Ladders_ in Dar's direction.  
As Pleck and C-53 worked their way through the crowd, the Tellurian realized that C-53 had indeed prophesied truth, all the canisters were on their sides, empty of their contents. Pleck had just begun to pout when he felt a nudge in his ribs. Looking round, he saw where C-53 was pointing. Someone was wheeling out several crates of Orange Beer.  
Pleck gasped in delight, letting go of the droid's hand to run over to the rebel gentleman was piling then on a table. He didn't care that it was warm, unscrewed the cap and began guzzling it down. Orange foam spilt down a cheek, which C-53 brushed away. A frown crossed Pleck's face.  
“What's wrong?” the droid asked.  
“I don't think I like beer.” he replied.  
Servos whirred. “Is this your first time drinking beer?” C-53 asked incredulously.  
“Yeah, I guess I thought it would be orange flavoured.”  
The droid blinked and heaved a sigh, sliding an arm around Pleck's waist and pulling him closer. “Well, you're not ‘pink’ flavoured.”  
The Tellurian blushed deeply. “I'm not that pink.”  
At that moment, Dar pushed through the crowd, Nermut in tow. “HEEYYY! ARE WE HUGGING?” they threw their arms around the two, clearly being partially responsible for the depletion of the moonshine. Being too short, Nermut settled for hugging a pink leg.  
“Hey Pleck, why are you only wearing one sock?”  
“Oh!” the Tellurian exclaimed, flustered and scrambling for a reason. “Uh, well I need to be in balance with the space, right? Only one sock is perfectly balanced between fresh and whack.”  
Nermut nodded sagely. “Ex-sock-ly right, huh?”


End file.
